Willie Nelson, of course.
The old dude is eighty-five years of age
and just as defiant, original, creative, and talented as ever. Kind of gives
you hope, doesn’t it?
Now, I’ll grant that this income-tax-delinquent,
unrepentant dope-smoking, four-times-married iconoclast may not appear to be a
good example of moral piety and rectitude. I really don’t care. I’ve just
always dug Willie. There’s just something about the very serene way he seems to
be telling us all that, if we don’t like it, we can apply our lips to his
posterior (metaphorically speaking) which makes it impossible not to like him.
Willie may not be the most orthodox of
believers. He’s sort of a Christian with Hindu overtones and a bit of the Rastafarian
thrown in to add seasoning. In his 1988 autobiography, he describes how he had
an epiphany that all things are in God, and theology has always been an
interest of his. Unfortunately, as a young man the budding theologian was forced
to quit his gig as a Baptist Sunday School teacher when pious church-goers
complained he was a bad influence because he sang and played in bars on
Saturday nights.
But, as Luther teaches, we are all both
saint and sinner. And as James, the Lord’s brother teaches, faith without works
is dead (James 2:17). And Willie has certainly demonstrated saintliness through
his works. He has been the tireless advocate for the American family farmer
through his Farm Aid concerts. He raised his voice to denounce the Iraq war and
to support LGBTQ rights. He’s championed renewable energy by his production and
use of biofuels. He’s joined Texas Congressman Beto O’Rourke in denouncing the
Trump administration’s policy of separating migrant children from their parents
at the border. Whether or not you agree with his use of weed, I think, on
balance, Willie has done more good than harm.
Personally, I just like the guy’s style.
There is a gentle way in both his music and his character which says that it’s
alright to be exactly who you are. In his non-abrasive way, he just doesn’t seem
to give a crap about what others think. I also dig the fact that he loves to
revive old tunes. His 1978 Stardust
album was a departure from his outlaw country music. He recorded, and continues
to perform, some of the loveliest melodies from America’s golden age of pop
standards—Gershwin, Cole Porter, Mercer Ellington, etc. You just have to love
an eighty-four-year-old hippie in pigtails and a graphic T-shirt crooning Hoagy
Carmichael. He did the album because, he said, “There’s a whole generation of
young people who’ve never heard these songs.” God bless you, Willie, for
keeping theses tunes alive and making them sound so cool.
But, for my money, Willie’s best and most
under-appreciated album is one I found at a Borders Book Store in White Plains,
NY back in 1996. It’s a collection of classic American gospel tunes he recorded
with his sister, Bobbie, who plays the piano. The 1990 album is called Old Time Religion. It includes “I’d
Rather Have Jesus,” “Lily of the Valley,” “I’ll Fly Away,” “Are You Washed in
the Blood,” and a bunch of other great old-time gospel songs my dad probably
sang in Sunday School. It’s my tradition to play this album to wake myself up
every Easter morning. I put it on my car stereo as I drive through the pre-dawn
darkness on my way to Sunrise Service. And I sing along, too. The Resurrection
of Our Lord is always sweet when I share it with Willie.
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